


You're All I Need To Get By

by jlpierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Library Sex, M/M, Secret Relationship, Smut, Some Humor, WSBB 2019, Wolfstar Big Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 19:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlpierre/pseuds/jlpierre
Summary: "You're not as quiet as you think you are, Padfoot."Sirius snorted before brushing his hair back from his face. "What's everyone's deal with me being quiet? I'd think you of all people would prefer me to be loud."Remus laughed, putting his quill down. "Only when it counts."





	You're All I Need To Get By

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gibslythe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gibslythe/gifts).



> A huge thank you to my wonderful artist [Gibslythe](https://gibslythe.tumblr.com/post/184898238369/my-finished-piece-for-the-wolfstar-bigbang-its) who's art you should totally check out as it accompanies this, and also inspired this entire piece. You're wonderful, and I've loved interacting with you. 
> 
> To my beta/alpha/best hombre in the world, thewaterfalcon, thank you for putting up with my doubts, and the force read to convince me this wasn't drivel.
> 
> To the mods of the Wolfstarbigbang fest, once again I have loved every second.

It hadn't been Sirius' idea to keep them a secret, it had been Remus'.

Not that Sirius was blaming him, of course; he never could, _never would_ , but Sirius wasn't pleased. It had irked him pretty quickly, especially after the shine had been well and _truly_ dusted off the sneaking around; after all of it had proved itself to be more difficult than he had first thought. Not that Sirius _had_ given it much thought, just a few hours of every night when sleep didn't come easily.

He learnt that he wasn't as _tactful_ with sneaking around as he had initially thought. He wasn't clumsy; he was just _loud._ Sirius' whispers were close to shouts, even when they were behind bookcases together; his feet hammered up the stairs, shouting he had ' _forgotten'_ something in the most apparent manner before slamming shut the bedroom door and pressing Remus up against it. Because of that, and James _rising_ suspicion, Remus had placed a ban on them vanishing off together, ending the fun-run of sneaking around.

All he had to do was wait. Postpone his many, _many_ , plans for Remus until the suspicion died off, or Remus felt comfortable to resume their hangouts.

Sirius, being the intelligent man he was, had devised and adapted a _Protean Charm_ to be able to link two pieces of parchment together, allowing the two of them to pass notes—warming up in their pockets—giving them a chance to plan a few _quiet_ moments. Remus, of course, had used the parchment—the first chance he got—to discuss what _they were to one another._

Apparently replying, " _Friends who fuck_ ", wasn't the correct answer.

Even if Sirius had thought it was more profound than all of that, he just hadn't wanted to be the first to say what he thought—something he later regretted. Especially when Remus began a three-day freeze-out, and Sirius found out he wasn't the most stubborn person in _their_ relationship.

Sirius had never been an excellent conversationalist, not when it came to _serious_ things. He suspected it was because his mother had the emotional range of ice and his father was a warmed up corpse that occasionally talked. The only person he had meaningful conversations with, the only one who shared the same discomfort over the lack of love in Grimmauld Place, was Regulus. The two of them barely having a conversation, never mind a relationship.

All of it became harder when Sirius established his role as joker in their group. James was the loud, occasionally abrasive man led by his heart and his morals; Remus the one who was more cautious, but equally sarcastic, adding an element the others never thought of. Then there was Peter, the one they protected, the smallest one who was finding himself. That left Sirius, the one who made others smile, the one who never let anyone sit and around and wallow; the one who ran away from his feelings and helping others do the same.

He became more of a _Sirius_ than a _serious person_ , and often would land himself in hotter water than successfully resolving whatever the discussion was. It's also what people expected from him, which made it all the easier to slip into being less-serious—no one had the belief in him he'd be any different.

Initially, Sirius had expected things to be easier with Remus. For one they were already friends— _best friends,_ even—but it had actually made it more of a hindrance than Sirius expected. Secondly, when Sirius finally came around to admitting how long he had _fancied the pants_ of Remus, he found he clamped up. There were occasional outbursts of truth, mixed with anger-laced sentences as frustration mounted, and lots of shrugging. It all led to one explosive paragraph that confessed _far too much_ too quickly.

Remus had dumbly stared at him for half a minute before he coughed, clearing the silence from the room.

He had wanted the ground to swallow him up, but alas, dreams hadn't come true.

Even if Remus _seemed_ to appreciate it, Sirius' cheeks had remained warm for longer than the fire burnt. They didn't cool as Remus' pressed his lips to his, the hint of peppermint toothpaste and Remus cologne drowning Sirius, rendering him an _unconfident_ mess. If anything, his cheeks burned more, and it wasn't until Sirius swiped his tongue over Remus' bottom lip did he forget about his own cheeks at all.

The moment the two of them kissed, Sirius found himself as far from who he thought he was. Having always been known for being overly confident, borderline cocky—depending on who you asked—he wasn't around Remus. Not even a little bit.

It was actually embarrassing—if anyone had any idea what was happening, thankfully _they_ didn't.

Another great surprise to Sirius was that while he had harboured a crush on Remus for the better part of two years, he had assumed as _soon_ as he told Remus everything, things would become easier. Apparently, that only happened with people who were _not_ someone that rhymed with ' _Pirius Slack'._ He'd still found his eyes drifted to Remus' abs when he stretched first thing in the morning; his throat would still dry up when Remus snarkily shut down a Slytherin. After their first kiss, their second, third and even tenth, Sirius found it didn't become any less complicated. All worsened by the first time Sirius took Remus in his mouth, and he watched eyelashes flutter over the green as Remus gripped his bedsheets.

If anything, everything became far more intense, and with that and the thrill of them being a secret was swallowed by how real everything had become, Sirius found himself drowning in something he couldn't see.

Sirius was in a _committed_ relationship, something he had never been in before now, and it scared the living _shit_ out of him. Being committed, being in a relationship, it changed things. Him, being one of them, and his thoughts a second. The worst of them all was his worries.

The expectations, the fear of letting someone down—it was all too much. Sirius had been used to being a disappointment in his family's eyes, a scorch mark in his mother's' mind, but the thought that Remus could think that of him. Of time passing between them and Sirius showing his true colours, ruining not only a relationship but a friendship, it was enough to send him to an early grave.

Or go _grey_.

Either way, it was bad. Terrible, even.

Sirius would _not_ look grey. Not even a little bit.

Even between the sentences, Remus had actually said, and all the in-betweens where Sirius had heard something different, there was still something that rang true: _Remus didn't want to be caught with Sirius._

If it was someone else, and not Remus, Sirius could _maybe_ understand. He had somehow picked up the ' _whore'_ trait even if he hadn't been with many people at all. Not any more than Marlene, and she had been branded a hero. Somehow, even though he hadn't been open with anyone else outside of his friendship circle, he had gone from being straight to bisexual, to gay, to someone who would fuck a barrel if it looked at him the right way. Which was _ridiculous_ , Sirius obviously drew the lines at barrels.

"Lost in your own world there, Pads?"

Sirius glanced up, watching as James cleaned his glasses with the end of his shirt. Sirius knew he was aware there was a spell for that, Remus had taught it to him, he suspected James only did it, so he _appeared_ refined.

No _one_ , not even Peter, believed James Potter could be refined for a second.

Shrugging, Sirius threw his shirt behind him, slipping one arm in before the other. "Only thing I'm lost in is how cross-eyed you are without those glasses on."

James scowled before shoving them back on, something that only made Sirius partially smirk.

"Where's Moony?"

James looked around, as though a six-foot-one male could just be lurking out of sight, sometimes Sirius wasn't sure how he achieved the grades he did. Especially when, like himself, he never saw James with a book.

"Fine, where's Wormtail?" Sirius tried.

Again, James looked at him blankly before a broad grin passed over his face. "Moony has gone to the library, said he'd meet us for breakfast—told me to remind you to wear matching socks. Wormy, I think, is in the common room, he said he had a headache, or he had a stomach ache. He's in pain anyway."

Standing up, narrowly avoiding the top of the bed—something Sirius hit more often than he didn't—and pulled his tie from the edge of the poster. "You're a great listener, Prongs," he teased.

Grinning, not realising he had been sarcastic, James puffed out his chest. "Aw, thanks, Pads. You're a great pal yourself."

* * *

Remus had found the library almost empty in the mornings. The place was _supposed_ to be quiet anyway, but there was something special about the sun rising through the windows; the colours shimmering over the shelves, making old look new, the dust sparkling through the air like glitter. It was fast becoming his favourite sight, especially when his _other_ favourite sight had been drawing the curtains at night.

He knew that Sirius had begun doing it on purpose, as much as Sirius was usually very vocal, it was often what he didn't say that was the _biggest_ indicator. He drew the curtains around himself only to make a point to Remus—one he heard loud and clear.

In all the years, including the ones when their bodies had begun to change and embarrassment rose in them, none of them closed the curtains. When Remus lay wrapped in bandages after a horrible full moon, he never closed them; when Sirius had returned to school after Christmas, the bruises and cuts on his back from his families disappointment in him, he still hadn't closed them.

Sirius, however, had closed the curtains every single night since Remus had asked if they could try and be more secretive.

He knew how it had sounded. Remus sounded like a fucking fool, something he didn't want to be, but Remus also didn't want to create a problem their group didn't need. Remus was pretty sure, almost adamant, he was in love with Sirius Black. He didn't doubt Sirius, he knew the man could and likely would love him back, but that was what scared him.

When things went from _fooling around_ to _being in love_. For Remus to have someone who depended on him in a way he had never had before; someone Remus would need to consider when he made his choices.

Not that Remus would have many.

When he came here though, surrounded by dark oak bookcases and thousands upon thousands of books, he felt at peace. Remus didn't worry what the world would think of him outside the walls of the library; it was a place that provided hope in a darkening world. Around the books and tombs, Remus didn't worry about being a werewolf or the boyfriend of someone. Remus could be a man who studied, a man who read books.

He preferred that version of him, it was easier, _simpler_.

Books had been a staple in Remus life before he even _had_ friends. Sometimes, and very sadly, they were his _only_ friends. They would be all he had, getting him through rough recoveries and keeping him company as he waited for the full moon. They were never hurt, not a page or a spine.

Some days, when Remus felt far from home or entirely out of his depth, he came here and centred himself. Magic, as beautiful and intricate as it was, never wowed him a hundred percent, not as a book did. When he was younger, his mother had taken him to a Muggle library, it's many rows broken down into various fiction and non-fiction had astounded him. He felt the same as a first year when he entered the library at Hogwarts, his eyes staring up at the tallest point of the shelf, wondering if he'd ever read his way to the top.

He hadn't. Not even with one shelf.

Mainly because friends had come along. Pranks replaced reading; antics replaced boredom. Soon enough, when fifth-year came and went, the childish mistake that almost fractured all their friendships, Remus noticed something else butting into his life. _Hormones._

Ones he had ignored. His growth spurt had hit earlier, he suspected because of the monster within, but the feelings—the emotions—they took longer. While he had grown taller than the others, going from second shortest to the tallest over a summer, and Remus' stubble began to grow quicker, his father giving him the talk of spells to help tame it and the one that all children dreaded from their parents. But, by the time his sixth year began, when they had all become men instead of boys, Remus realised how disinteresting books were compared to a shirtless Sirius.

Even more so how uninteresting they were compared to a Sirius who was pressing his lips to his at the end of their sixth-year party.

" _You'll write?" Sirius had asked, his thumb pulling down on Remus' bottom lip._

_Remus had nodded, finding all his birthdays and Christmas' had come at once. "If you want me too."_

" _I have for a while… guess I was worried you wouldn't."_

An entire year of pining and here they were. Several months into _figuring_ it out, and a heavy amount of stress on Remus' shoulders. It didn't make sense to anyone else why it was there or why the only reason he could shake it off, was _here_.

Sirius suspected he was the cause for it, getting in his own head, not able to fight the demons his mother had helped create in his mind. James thought he had others friends, pouting annoyingly until Remus reminded him that he'd be pressed to find any other idiots to befriend him. Peter, _well,_ Peter's loyalty never wavered with Remus, like it did the others. They were the two often together, at the back of the four.

None of them was right. None of them was even close to being right.

Remus was scared for himself—for the future of who he would be when he left here. The regrets that would fill his head every single night, whether or not Sirius was beside him, would never be removed if Remus didn't try as hard as he could. If Remus didn't do the best he could in his exams, because he couldn't risk being a failure, as well as an outed werewolf.

The book remained sprawled out in front of him, his mind having zoned out ages ago as he caught sight of the time on his watch—the one Peter had charmed for Remus in their third year.

"Fuckin' _shit_ bag," Remus muttered, grasping as much of his parchment as he could and fisted it into his bag. " _Fuck,_ fuck, _fucking fuck."_

Swishing his wand, the book slammed shut—disturbing the peace, the air sucking out of the room—before he swished the book back to the shelf. Remus threw his bag over his shoulder, grasping his robe from the chair as Pince walked out of one set of shelves, a disapproving look on her face—a disappointed glare.

He sheepishly smiled because that's all he had to offer, and Remus bound out of the library like a wolf with its tail between its legs. Because that's precisely what he was.

* * *

Remus was late.

Sirius had cut the slices of toast into triangles, poured Remus a cup of tea as he kept James entertained, and even remembered to drop in the two cubes of sugar. And yet, still no Remus.

He would have been more cross if it had been the first, or even the second, time. By the tenth, Sirius found himself pouting, suddenly put off his own scrambled egg on toast. The niggling feeling, the one that twisted in his stomach, seemed to tighten whenever Remus _wasn't_ around. It was likely because Sirius worried obsessively when Remus wasn't, but also likely because he couldn't stop himself from thinking Remus hated him.

Sirius knew he had a problem. He was aware of it, even stared into the eyes of the beast within and accepted it was there, but it never seemed to ease.

Peter and James, however, had pushed through an entire rack of toast, a large golden bowl of cereal and several spoonfuls of scrambled egg. He wondered briefly if Remus ever found it difficult to eat when he was missing until he remembered that no one ever lost Sirius—they'd more likely pay _to_ lose him than actually find themselves without him. Sirius should feel complimented, but somehow, he didn't.

Sirius actually felt rather annoyed on Remus' behalf, no one batted an eyelid when they lost Remus, and he was a hell of a lot nicer than Sirius.

He had been about to pout harder when he saw a flushed, wild-haired Remus dash through the large doors. Sirius tried—but albeit, not that hard—not to grin like a dog who had just seen his owner. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't hide the joy, and when Remus planted himself in front of him, their knees lightly brushing against one another, he found something sparkling back at him in Remus' eyes.

"Sorry I'm late, what have I missed?"

Sirius rolled his eyes as he stared at a Peter who had his mouth-full and James who had egg in his eyebrow.

"Well, the Olym _dics_ has just begun—"

Shaking a serviette, Remus smirked. "Olym _pics_ , Padfoot."

Groaning under his breath, Sirius picked at his egg. " _Anyway_ , Wormtail won gold in how much food he can ram in his mouth and Prongs here, he got silver for how much food he could wear." James frowned deeply. "He lost out to Snivellus who seems to have dropped an entire pool's _worth_ of bacon grease onto his hair."

Remus chuckled, and it was hard for Sirius not to beam with pride at his prize. He didn't. He tried to hold back something at least.

"Where were _you_?" Sirius tried to ask in his most forced, nonchalant voice.

He expected a sharp pair of eyes, maybe some stern words. Sirius hadn't expected the feel of fingers around his knee, giving him a soft squeeze as Remus offered a soft smile—one Sirius was still getting used to.

"Library. It's quieter in the mornings," Remus said—as though his hand wasn't on Sirius' knee. "Less stuffy and Madam Pince is in a _much_ better mood."

Sirius missed Remus' hand the moment it had gone, suddenly realising how touch-starved he was. A sudden hunger bubbling in his stomach he had no answer for until it hit him. It had been a week—no, _two—_ since Remus' hand had been anywhere on his body, never mind around his cock.

"Trying to get in her good books, ay, Moony?"

Sirius shot Peter a glare before he could stop himself.

Remus, who was vastly calmer and seemingly more prepared for conversations such as these, laughed. Sirius wasn't sure he could cope, feeling the words, ' _I'm the one dating Moony, not Pince'_ burning on the end of his tongue.

"Better Pince than the barrel Padfoot is in love with?"

Sirius, instead of bitterly replying that he was dating someone a lot fucking nicer than a barrel, stabbed his egg with his fork, much to the amusement of his friends.

* * *

Evan's knew.

She had too.

It was the only way it made any sense why the Prefect shift had changed, allowing Sirius a night with Remus _alone,_ after her earlier comment of him pouting. Lily Evans was a sneaky lion, sometimes making Sirius wonder if she was a Slytherin underneath all her red. If she _did_ know, she would never admit it—their friendship wasn't like hers and Remus'. They didn't share things; didn't open up to one another. He'd wind her up and she'd taunt him, both of them hiding their true feelings underneath a bunch of jokes.

She _clearly_ didn't like him; Sirius was _sick_ of hearing about her.

It didn't help that Sirius hadn't had the _best_ relationship with the girls, not since he had kissed Dorcas third year and later tried to sleep with Marlene. It had surprised him when Lily had sat beside him in the common room during their fourth year, a mischievous smile on her face. At first, he hadn't spoken, choosing to look down at his book until she cleared her throat.

" _Confession, I used to have a crush on you, Black."_

" _Let me guess, Evans. You learnt I'm a dickhead and you stopped? Or, I like to fuck around? There are so many of my bad qualities, but I assume it was one of them."_

_She had shaken her head, closing his book on his lap. "I realised I was barking up the wrong tree."_

Sirius, up till then, had only come out to one other person, James. It hadn't been as easy as it was with Lily, a lot of questions and "how do you even know?" that Sirius struggled to explain other than "I just do". Lily didn't require an explanation; she didn't need anything from him.

" _How'd you guess?"_

_She smirked, as only a Slytherdor would. "You look at more men's arse than Marlene for one. Two, I don't believe the gossip."_

" _Are you being nice to me, Evans?"_

" _Fuck no," Lily smiled, patting his hand as Sirius smiled back._

After that night, they were _secret_ friends. Sirius would have her back without making it obvious; Prongs would become irked by their inside jokes. But mainly, their jibes were purely joking without the occasional bitterness or jealousy that had been there before. When she began to date James, their dynamic shifted again—a more sister-in-law approach being made. Her eyes closer to the group, always watching, always seeing, it was the only explanation as to why Lily knew about him and Remus.

The night together, thanks to Lily's help, had planned out perfectly. Peter, who had taken the fall for one of Prongs ideas, had detention with the Potions professor, and due to Lily being Head Girl, and very persuasive when she wanted to be, had entrusted James with doing Remus' Prefect rounds. James, desperate to spend any time with his new girlfriend, jumped at the chance.

Sirius had hoped it would be more romantic than their other _alone times._ He had hoped to run his lips over Remus' neck, and slide his hand down his stomach, healing all of his scars.

That, however, didn't seem to be on the cards.

Remus had _instead_ thrown his tie on the bed, turned on the spot, gave Sirius those bedroom eyes he could never ignore, and beckoned him closer. The wolf within was a hungry animal, but nothing quite like Remus. Sirius wasn't complaining, far from it; Sirius also hadn't wanted to do anything else with their time. But as he felt Remus pressing him down into the mattress, watching his tongue trace his lips, all ready to crash his lips against Sirius', Sirius stopped him.

"Why are we still a secret?"

Pausing, lips ajar, Remus tilted his head in confusion. The same way an animal did when they had heard a noise.

Sirius _wanted_ to say it had come out of nowhere, to ignore him and continue with whatever Remus was planning to do. But he couldn't—he refused to take the words back. It had been eating its way at him, feasting on him when he should have been concentrating. It worked it's way into his mind, planting different ideas as to why working over and over again when he _should_ have been learning.

"Sirius…"

He swallowed, attempting to muster words he knew Remus wanted to hear. But he couldn't. He couldn't lie, not to him.

Fuck, Sirius wanted to. Sometimes, there was nothing else he wanted to do, but after the incident in their fifth year, when Remus had wild eyes and closed fists, shouting at him not to lie, Sirius found he couldn't. The words never came; the lies never presented themselves.

"I just wanted to know," Sirius sighed. "Because we're great together, _right_? And, sometimes, maybe, I think of how great _this_ could feel if we didn't have to sneak around? Y'know, _sometimes."_

Remus nodded, moving to sit beside him, the mattress squeaking under both of their weights. He looked at him, green mixing with grey, twisting in a pool forming a shade that Sirius wished to paint a thousand pictures in.

"I…"

"It doesn't matter." _Even_ if it did. "Let's… um, enjoy our night together."

As though he had said some magical words, Sirius in a flash, however, found himself on his back. Remus' legs were either side of his; the green of his eyes had darkened to the leaves of the trees, and Sirius felt his throat dry at the sight.

He didn't want to be _that guy,_ but the silence—the lack of acknowledgement—bothered him. How easily Remus had gone from what state of mind to the other. Sirius never hated being pushed on his back; he never hated when Remus looked down at him as he was doing. Sirius actually _fucking_ enjoyed it. Seeing his man— _his boyfriend—_ so free and in control, it turned him on more than anything.

But that thought—the one niggling, pecking at his brain, wouldn't stop. Even if Sirius wanted to be completely fucked senseless by Remus; even if Sirius desperately craved the feel of Remus' cock inside of him.

He had to ask, he had too. Even it could, and likely would, ruin everything. "I mean, we are, aren't we… great, I mean?"

Instead of replying, Remus pressed his lips against Sirius' as though telling him wordlessly that _of course, they were._ It was soft, almost sweet, and Sirius, not knowing when he had become someone who needed a verbal cue, pulled away.

Instead of pushing—asking in a sort of childish way for an answer—he just stared. One that Remus could, and likely would ignore, but Sirius hoped he found he wouldn't be able to. He _really_ hoped that.

Curling a piece of his hair around his finger, Remus let out a soft breath—the scent of chocolate and mint meeting Sirius' nose as he did.

"We're _perfect_ together," Remus reassured softly, licking his lips as he ghosted his fingers over Sirius' face.

Then _why?_ Sirius had wanted to ask. What were they even doing sneaking around if Remus felt the same as Sirius?

He couldn't ask that, even if he needed too. Instead, he captured Remus' bottom lip, pulling on it, saying what he wanted without asking. Sirius wrapped his hands around his neck, the tips of his fingers brushing into his hair as he rolled his tongue against Remus' bottom lip.

"Oh," Remus whispered as their mouths parted. his deep voice vibrating the air close to Sirius' lips. "You want _me_ , do you?"

Sirius ignored the need for validation, the ego-stroke and many questions he had wanted to ask, as he took a fistful of his hair and brought Remus' lips down heavy against his own. He enjoyed the groan that brushed over their mouths and the feel of Remus growing length against him as he rolled his hips up against him.

 _I love you,_ Sirius wanted to say, but instead, he kissed him—pushing the feeling into each movement of his lips. _I want you forever._ Sirius' hand dropping to Remus' lower back, freeing his shirt from his belt. _I need you always,_ Sirius said without using his mouth, brushing his tongue against Remus'.

* * *

There were many reasons why Remus was sure he was in love with Sirius.

Even if, on more occasions than not, he was a _charge-into-action_ sort of idiot, he was also an idiot with a good heart. For all the playful insults, there was an abundance of adoration he was fearful of showing. And, each time Sirius told Remus he was good enough, he would almost believe him.

There was always a look in the grey orbs that burned into him, pinning him in his place as Sirius listed all the reasons why Remus was worthy of whatever he thought he wasn't. He'd listen to the passion in his voice, the firm tone that was laced with adoration, that sounded like music to Remus' ears. Some mornings, before the world had properly awoken, Remus wished he could bottle Sirius' words and listen to them over and over again.

It seemed _foolish_ to anyone, with a brain, as to why Remus was scared of them being _official-_ official. Even when he had attempted to formulate his thoughts to Lily, who was an amazing soundboard, he found he struggled to find an _actual_ reason. All Remus knew for sure was he was fearful.

Scared of _them_ changing; worried he'd not be enough. Apprehensive over what his father would think; even more aware that Sirius' family would have a _lot_ to fucking say. It was territory Remus hadn't been in—or Sirius, for that matter. It was something he had never thought possible before it happened, Remus Lupin had never thought, never questioned, what he would do if he fell in love with someone.

Because he had never known it would happen.

Yes, Remus had harboured a crush on him. Yes, Remus had noticed how obedient Sirius was to him when his anger was fired up and not even James could get him to sit. He also knew how much they both enjoyed the other's company, but even without Sirius so much as saying it, Remus knew _this—_ them—was different than how it was with James or Peter.

It changed, even more, when they began to explore what they could be, Remus had _felt_ it. It was in how electrifying the room was, it was how he found it hard to suppress a smile when they discovered they were alone. It was in the tiny touches, like Sirius brushing his thumb over his skin, or their lips barely touching. For all those reasons, and plenty more, Remus was worried it would all unravel when people found out. As though the downfall of them both would be more people sticking their opinions in.

Sirius wasn't the most functional of people. He wasn't damaged, but he wasn't whole; Remus wasn't much better himself. The two of them, their broken pieces together, fit almost perfectly. It was natural to be scared of that shattering when their friends found out, _surely_? Especially when Remus had experienced first hand what a secret could do, and what it did when the truth came out.

Remus had already held a secret he was fearful of being judged for. The scars that littered his skin, what he became when the moon was high and full. It had felt easy to tell them, the three friends that changed his life, but it had been a burden they hadn't needed to carry. Remus _should_ have done better in protecting them because now they were forced to lie—to shield him. Remus knew that would only intensify when he shared who he was dating. He turned his half-reckless friends into Animagus'. They had done that for him, because of what they knew. They had broken the law _for_ him.

Sirius would blindly, and without thought, stand by him even when the rest of the world discovered what Remus was—but that was understandable. Sirius also wouldn't care what others said about him, having had things said about him for the duration of his time at Hogwarts' both outside the walls and inside.

James, however, would be foolish enough to fall into the firing line for Sirius, and thus for him. Peter, not wanting to be left behind, would do the same. It was a punishment that didn't fit the crime—the crime being who he was, and choosing to conceal it. The world was changing, just as Remus' mum had worried about and his father had warned him about. He'd read the papers, digested the reality of the situation, and accepted some of his fate.

Going public with Sirius would be damning him, even if the foolish man couldn't see it.

"We lost you there, Moony?"

Remus blinked back his thoughts, swallowing his state of mind as he met Sirius' eyes—those grey, almost silver, twinkling eyes. The ones that peered into his soul, the ones that saw him and not a monster.

"Not my fault you're a boring storyteller there, Padfoot."

Sirius, as to be expected, gasped. He even threw a hand up to his forehead to over-dramatise the situation. If he wasn't so attractive, Remus was sure it would annoy him.

"How dare _thee_?" Sirius remarked, his voice a higher-pitch, feigning being insulted.

James looked from one of them to the other. There was a twinkle in his eye, the knowing smile beneath the smirk, it was enough to make Remus wonder if—

Peter thumped him, harder than Remus had expected, making him jump. "For the love of Merlin, Remus. Don't _ignore_ the twat."

Remus glanced back to Sirius whose hands were now on his hips, mouth aghast as Remus rolled his eyes. "You're a dramatic bastard somedays."

"You wouldn't change me for the world though, would you, Moony?"

 _Bastard_ , was all Remus thought. Especially as the git smirked more than he had ever smirked, a suggestiveness to his words that he wished had never been spoken. If James was suspicious before, he most definitely was now. James could be stupid a lot of the time, especially when it came to Lily, but he was never, ever when it came to Sirius.

Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, James cleared his throat. "I don't know, Padfoot. Would _you_ change him, Moony?"

Remus' eyes widened, his throat suddenly becoming drier than a desert as he stared into his friends' eyes.

James fucking _knew_.

* * *

Sirius liked to think he was good at looking after his things. His school books would argue this as would his robes, but things that _really_ mattered to him, Sirius tried his best to keep in good condition.

There was the letter Regulus had sent him during his first year, the first year of the two of them being apart, and the sketch that accompanied it. Then there was a tie pin James' dad had given him for his birthday, for those times ' _you don't want to use magic'_ or the photo Evan's had taken of him and Remus last summer when they weren't looking. There were other things too, but they were the three that came easiest to mind, and then, of course, there was the parchment—the secret parchment that should, _always_ , remain a secret.

"Where's the map?"

Frowning, Sirius lifted his head from the armchair, looking at a confused James as the contents of his pockets were laid out on his lap. Sirius dropped his head, knowing exactly how the next hour would go. The seemingly lost map, the one that always went missing, would be with Peter—likely being used to _woo_ an unwilling female.

James, however, was a hysterical mess. Ever since he had begun dating Evans', in reality, and not just in his dreams, he had become _unbearable._ Before, when James couldn't find the map, he'd shrug and laugh it off, now, it was as though someone had forcibly removed his arm and attempted to feed him with it.

"Pads? Where's _the_ map?"

Remus, who remained unbothered, legs over the arms of the armchair as he pretended to read the book in his hands. Sirius wasn't buying it, any of it. Remus couldn't help himself when there was drama, his ears pricked up, using that annoying werewolf hearing power to his own use.

Sirius sighed—loudly. "Oh, it must be over there, where all the _fucks_ are all being given?"

To prove his point, Remus snorted. Sirius didn't even try and hide his prideful smirk.

James, who was most definitely not amused, planting his hands on his hips. "I'm _fucking_ serious."

Sirius had really wanted to laugh, but refrained, only because it was James. "No, _pal_ , I am."

James huffed, because of course, he did. Like some child who hadn't gotten his way or a small boy who was told he wouldn't be going to Hogwarts' this year. Sirius remembered the pout Regulus had when his mother had driven him to the station, the small stomp the youngest Black had done when they arrived.

Sometimes, James reminded him of Regulus. So much hot air and annoyance merging with the air whenever he became angry. It had never crossed his mind how similar the two were, well, except James wasn't about to sign his name on some stupid contract to work for a maniac.

"That _wasn't_ funny when we were eleven, and it's not funny now."

"I beg to differ, Prongs. I remember Pumpkin juice spraying out of your nose when I said it to you the first time."

Sirius didn't need to see James roll his eyes. He heard it. Sighing, Sirius stood to empty his pockets as he presented the contents to his friend. Unbeknown that a single bit of parchment—a _special_ piece of parchment—had fallen down. Peter, who had entered the room as quiet as… well, _a rat_ , had picked it up with a wondrous confusion.

"Empty, see? For once I am not hiding the map from you."

James gritted his jaw. "For _once_."

"Padfoot, why are you carrying a blank piece of parchment though?" Peter asked, a smirk to his words as Sirius flipped around, suddenly eyeing his silent friend. "Bit odd, even for you?"

He tried, _tried_ being the optimal word, not to look alarmed. Mainly because he had no explanation for a secret piece of parchment he used to talk to Remus and there was no excuse as to why he, Sirius Black, would be carrying parchment when he barely remembered a quill to his classes.

"It's... _nothing_ ," he lied—terribly.

Peter, who was smarter than he appeared, arched a brow. "Yeah, yeah. So," he moved the parchment between his fingers, "for the record, I could rip this?"

Sirius scrambled forward, hands grasping wildly as he snatched the piece of parchment from Peter's hands. He didn't stop _until_ it was firmly in his hand, cockily staring down at his friend as he met a shocked—somewhat _the fuck_ expression.

"I got it," Sirius said weakly, shifting back to his seat as he met Remus' eyes. "I got it."

"You're a fucking _wizard_ , Padfoot!"

Sirius shrugged, stuffing the parchment inside of his robe pocket. "You _can't_ prove that, Moony."

James, who had been oddly silent, began to grin. Something inside of Sirius clicked, something ominous and full of panic began to rise, and as he continued to stare at his best friend, he was ashamed at how long it took him.

The knowing smile, the crazed glint in his eyes—James wasn't very masterful at being coy, and Sirius was embarrassed he hadn't noticed before.

James _fucking_ knew.

* * *

Something that became apparent when questioned was that Remus wasn't around as much as he used to be. Sirius felt he should have noticed a lot sooner because, for one, it's his boyfriend— _secret,_ or not—and two because they hung out as a four. Recently, Sirius had been hanging out as a one.

James being Head Boy had changed the group dynamic. Peter was often not around for unexplainable things Sirius couldn't figure out, or be bothered to try and work out, and Remus… well, Remus had begun to spend more time away from the common room that he had done previously.

If not for the fact Sirius, himself, was dating Remus, he'd have been _suspicious_ he was dating someone. Having ruled that out, Sirius was set to work at trying to work out what was important than hanging out with him.

There were very few places he could be, Remus being a creature of habit—the irony of that not lost on Sirius. He liked the outside when it was Spring. When the weather was warm but not too hot; he liked to seat himself by a fire in winter, a book or parchment in front of him, reading or sketching. It wasn't an especially nice day, not cold enough for fires but not warm enough for sitting on the bank near the lake.

When Sirius finally located him, he was annoyed at himself for not working it out sooner.

The scent of books was always a smell that reminded him of home—his _childhood_ home. He remembered mornings cooped up, tasked with something stupid and pointless just to appease his mother. Sirius suspected it was why he hated the school library, why he resented anyone who asked him to go in it, although he knew no one had known what his upbringing had been like.

When he was younger, thirteen or so, he had found it challenging to bottle his resentment. He remembered snapping at Peter because he had thought they'd finish their homework quicker; he could recall being snarky with James for wanting to check out a book. It wasn't until now when he came in with his own free will and a desperate need to see Remus, did Sirius realise that the library was nothing like the one from his childhood.

It was larger, of course, but it was also warm, inviting. Most of the books weren't cursed, set to blow his hand off or erase his eyebrows just for looking at it. There were no dangers, no woman set to shout at him—well except Pince.

"Loitering isn't tolerated—"

Sirius raised his hand. "I'm here to read. _Quietly_. In _a_ corner."

Pince folded her arms, looking over her glasses at him. "I don't think you've read quietly in your life, Mr Black."

Smirking, Sirius licked his lips. "You'll be surprised what I can do _quietly,_ Madam Pince."

He didn't wait for a response, not one with words anyway. Sirius heard the tut he had known was coming, and he imagined the shake of her head as she muttered under her breath about 'children these days'. His mission wasn't to piss off Pince, not today at least, his eyes scouring the available tables to find them empty and relatively tidy.

In a sense, Sirius didn't really need to hunt or run up and down the many aisles of books, he knew precisely where Remus would be. There was only a handful of times that Remus had deviated from his favourite place, and those had been situations that had pushed him to think very un-Remus-like. One of them being the mistake with Snape.

Remus, when he was himself, would always be surrounded by large tombs, scattered bits of parchment and three quills laid out before him. A 'back-up' in case the first didn't write so well, and another in case another student needed one. Sirius wanted to say it's why he liked him so much, he was the most unselfish person he knew, but in reality, Sirius liked Remus because he was always there.

Even the nights when Sirius hadn't been able to sleep, Remus—who usually slept through everything—would wake up, noticing him and asking if he was okay. He'd see past the faux confidence and bravado, asking if the man underneath it all needed some time alone. Then, when Regulus had ignored him, and Sirius had tried not to smash the common room to pieces, Remus asked everyone to leave, standing there at the fireplace, not saying a word until Sirius did.

While Remus had always said he didn't know what Sirius needed, not like James, he always had. He had always provided the very thing Sirius had wanted without him even asking. Before Sirius realised the way he cared about Remus wasn't the same as James—or Peter—it hadn't crossed his mind that it was different, but when it did, it hit him with everything he had.

A crush wasn't what he would have used to describe it, now knowing how he felt later down the road. Sirius would say he had been in love with Remus for a lot longer than he had known, and he wasn't ashamed to think of that anymore.

Sirius could stare at Remus for hours. Even now, with his hair stuck up, fringe twisted in some awkward position, eyes shimmering with both stress and too much tea. His concentrating expression was stitched across his face, and he wasn't sure when he had gone from liking pin-up Muggle women too muscular male Quidditch players to half-werewolf-men who studied in the corner of libraries, but Sirius wouldn't change it for the world.

Thankfully, for Sirius, Remus didn't see him, not for a minute, allowing him a chance to _really_ admire him. For once, he didn't need to be conscious of their friends noticing any odd behaviour or being caught in a compromising position. He could just stare, smirk all over his face, and an array of thoughts rushing through his mind.

"You're not as quiet as you think you are, Padfoot."

Sirius snorted before brushing his hair back from his face. "What's everyone's deal with me being quiet? I'd think you of all people would prefer me to be loud."

Remus laughed, putting his quill down. "Only _when_ it counts."

"Flirty," he responded, taking a step closer as he leaned his shoulder against the end of the bookcase, "I like it."

Smiling, Remus rolled his neck. "What you doing here, Padfoot?"

"Maybe I'm here because of my boyfriend—"

"— _Sirius—"_

Sirius shot him a look— _the_ look. "Oh, _fuck_ off, Moony. No one is around. The sensible and stupid ones are either outside or in their common rooms." Smirking, Sirius pulled out the chair and sat down on it, the back of it against his chest. "For the record, you're also a stupid _and sensible_ person, which is the exact reason you're the only one in here."

Remus rolled his eyes, flipping to the next page as he sighed. "You're a kind of a son of a bitch sometimes."

"I try," Sirius laughed, attempting to pull the book from Remus' grasp—only to fail. "Hey, I'm—"

"Sirius," Remus said exasperated. "I am trying to study."

Spreading his fingers over the page, Sirius cocked his brow. "And _I'm_ trying to distract you—don't make this harder than it already is."

He growled. Physically growled.

Sirius didn't hate how much he found it turned him on.

"Why did you come, _Padfoot?"_

Shrugging, letting out a fake sigh that neither of them believed, Sirius licked his lips. "You know when you storm off, _I have_ to follow.

"No, you don't."

Staring at him a little more defiantly, dropping the teasing from his tone. " _No,_ Remus, I do. I… _I-have-to-check-you're-okay."_

Remus' eyes widened, just a fraction. No one else would notice, but Sirius did. Sirius had studied those eyes, knew the exact shape, the correct shade—all to the point he could draw them, recreate them if ever needed. It was often the _only_ reason he knew something was wrong with him.

Unlike James who wore his feelings on the outside, Remus kept everything inside. Sirius had always suspected it was because he felt guilty for being upset, because how could a _werewolf be upset he had been given this chance?_ Sometimes, Sirius suspected he had heard Remus preach about his guilty too much to the point he now heard it in his own subconscious.

"I just do," Sirius added, mainly for reassurance, as he retracted his hand.

Sighing, in apparent defeat, Remus leaned back in his own chair. "Fine, but at least _be_ quiet."

Smirking, Sirius laughed. "I don't think that's going to happen, is it, Moony?"

"For _fuck_ sake," Remus whispered.

* * *

Remus didn't mind that Sirius had come, if anything, it was rather lovely. While his frustration had been mounting over the information not going in, he could look up and see Sirius who would be _pretending—_ as best he could—to look like he was also studying. Sirius Black didn't study; he was one of those arseholes that retained information like a sponge, something Remus tried not to resent him for.

What he did, periodically, resent him for was how little Sirius applied his own brain in class. It wasn't unarguable that Sirius could be the smartest person in most rooms, behind Lily, but Sirius preferred a different approach, and by different, Remus meant _slacked off._ He preferred to be liked, or be morally right about everything then actually show off his intelligence—Remus often wondered if Sirius felt embarrassed over how smart he was, but he hadn't found himself brave enough to ask.

As expected, Sirius—who was not studying—looked up from the book he was pretending to read, and would chime in with a, ' _You're one of the smartest people I know'—_ even though that title was better labelled on Sirius or James—or a ' _Moony, you've got all year to do this'._ He thought he was helping, and it was the only reason Remus didn't snap at him to shut up.

The truth of the matter, Remus _could_ have had all year for this, but it wasn't definite. While Remus was _sure_ that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let the Ministry take him, upon learning what he was, he couldn't exactly be sure. The air was different as of late, a tinge of darkness even at Hogwarts as the Slytherin's became more _Slytherin_ and the other houses more silent. Everyone could feel it—everyone but Sirius who was oblivious to such change, already hyper-suspicious the world was going to shit.

Remus had to give it to him; he wasn't wrong. If anything, Sirius was bang on the money more than most were. He had called it almost a year ago, mumbling over bacon and toast about how Muggle's would begin being attacked in their homes and good wizards going missing. None of them had laughed then, and none of them laughed when Sirius' predictions began to come true.

"You want a hand, Moony?"

Looking up from the page, Remus found Sirius brushing his hair back from his face, a cocky grin on his face as Remus saw two of Sirius' top buttons suddenly open.

_The git._

Clearing his throat, Remus sharpened his stare. "Do you need help getting dressed over there, Padfoot?"

Shrugging, Sirius smirked. "Not at all. However—"

"No," Remus quickly said. "Just _no."_

Rolling his eyes, Sirius groaned, "You're so _serious_ all of a sudden, it's like someone has been adding a little more _serious_ to your life."

"How long have you been sat on that one?"

Pondering, Sirius tilted his head from side to side. "A good ten minutes."

Tugging at the corner of Remus' book, clearly vying for his attention, Remus sighed heavily, wanting to glare at him but found he wasn't able to. For some reason, ever since Sirius had laid beside him, their bodies writhing together, Remus found it challenging to be _actually_ mad at Sirius. He could get angry— _fuck,_ he was most of the time—but he could never _stay_ mad.

He suspected it was his eyes or his smile. It could even be the way that Sirius made him feel more like a man and a fun one that at that. He thought he could relax a little more around him, as though their differences before had allowed Sirius to grow into someone who would genuinely be equal in terms of responsibility.

"But, do you _need_ a hand—and _not_ in a sexual way? Although, that could also be arranged."

Remus sometimes couldn't believe him. When he thought he had him penned as one thing, Sirius would come around and surprise him all over again. He could, when chose to be, compassionate beyond his wild impulsiveness and would actually listen.

"You're going to help me study?" Remus asked. "Someone who doesn't even study themselves?"

Tapping the side of his head, Sirius winked. "All I need is up here, and that's how to get to Honeydukes, what spells work on Snivellus and you naked, blushing above—"

"No," Remus said sharply.

It came out a little louder than he intended, bracing for Pince's arrival, but thankful when she never came.

"No," he said quieter. "Plus, I don't think what I look like naked is going to do you well in your N.E. ."

Sirius looked at him challengingly, and Remus feared he had walked into something. "What if the topic was werewolves? I could at least correctly answer how flushed one can get when their cock is rock hard, don't you think?"

"You're disgusting."

Laughing, Sirius winked again. "You're welcome." He pulled the book from his grasp, much to Remus' annoyance. " _So,_ what we studyin'—oh, balls, Transfiguration? Defence—you don't even struggle with Defence?!"

Remus felt the heat rise up his neck into his cheeks. "I want to do Professor McGonagall proud. And, y'know, I'm struggling with… all of it, I guess. Mainly transfiguration, I think. I'm just grateful I didn't take potions."

Scoffing, Sirius flipped over the page. "I think we all are, although the _Minx_ is clearly testing us."

"That _minx_ is preparing us for an exam, and our head of house, don't be so crude."

"Or is she?"

Remus sniggered. "Yes. She _is_. Should I also remind you that you _are_ taken? Calling someone else a minx could be quite hurtful to your partner."

" _Jealous_ , Moony?"

He jokingly did a half-shrug.

"You know, Moony. You're the only minx for me."

Remus wasn't sure he quite liked that term. If at all.

* * *

Sirius, when he applied himself, was an extremely intelligent individual. It wasn't something his mother had ever told him, but someone he respected a lot more than her—Professor McGonagall.

Before that, Sirius hadn't believed in himself at all. He knew he was charismatic, and he knew the questions that circled his mind about his families morals wasn't just him being difficult. But as far as actual intelligence, Sirius didn't see it.

" _Mr Black, do you know if you applied as much energy to mischief as you did your classes, your grades would actually reflect the intelligent individual within."_

He hadn't been able to mask his surprise, or his inability to come up with anything smart. If anything, a twelve-year-old Sirius Black just sat in the chair, feeling smaller than he had ever felt.

Professor McGonagall's words, for the most part, had stuck with him. They ate at his subconscious when he plotted with his friends; they pecked at him when his impulsive self took over. The words even shook their head disapprovingly at the end of their fifth year—before Remus had eventually forgiven him.

Sirius wasn't sure why he hadn't embraced the words before his final year—wasn't sure why he hadn't _applied himself_ like she had suggested he should. Sirius guessed it was because the shoe didn't fit, not then anyway.

If anything, the shoe fit the man in front of him—the one whose hair had frizzed from being tugged and almost had steam coming out of his small adorable ears. Remus fit the _intelligent individual_ hat rather well, even if the man didn't believe it either.

Sirius, with McGonagall's words running around his head, felt for the hair band around his wrist. He flicked it, the sting of it against his wrists as he centred it himself.

Lily had given it to him. Sirius suspected she had overheard his outburst, the annoyance at his hair being in the way and how everything was too much. He hadn't been quiet about it, shouting and screaming like a madman as he tried to hold himself together. He hadn't been doing a good job, especially after seeing Regulus and the betrayal and hurt in his eyes. As though by Sirius leaving, he was the bad guy—not the parents who he had left behind.

When Lily had sat beside him, she hadn't asked, hadn't prodded what had occurred with his family, but had placed the little red band in his hand as she patted him.

If it wasn't in his hair, it was around his wrist. Sirius had become quite attached to it, liked the feeling of it against his skin—but most of all, he liked flicking it when thoughts he wished to will away needed a little extra help.

He flicked it again, smirking as he lifted his head—mind clearing of words he didn't need to process, finding a different idea come to mind.

"Give me your notes, Moony."

Sirius wiggled his fingers in between them, waiting as patiently as he could muster. The air in the library became more burdensome, as though it was trying to suffocate him for even daring to step foot in the place. Today, he wouldn't bite—wouldn't hide from it.

"Why?"

Grinning, Sirius tilted his head. "Because I want to turn them into confetti," he drawled sarcastically. "Because I'm going to help."

Remus looked reluctant but handed them anyway.

"You have the answers in you; you just need something at _stake."_

He glanced over the notes, admiring the sensible handwriting and the way Remus curled his letters. He had seen it so many times, but Sirius knew each time he was in awe of it. It looked so different from his own, so neat but also so restricted. Sirius, who had moved away from traditional quill-manship, was more over the top, more purposeful with his y's and curls.

Remus sighed, the real sign of a frustrated man who needed a bit of _strip studying_ to loosen the vines in his mind.

"For each correct answer, I'm going to remove an item of clothing—but, before you get alarmed, I've been working on something for you."

"Of course you have," Remus groaned, only fuelling Sirius' smirk.

Grinning almost crazily, Sirius winked. "It's a one-way spell, inflicted on me, you—the caster—will be able to see me _naked,_ when I've removed an item, of course. But, to everyone else, I'll be dressed just like I am now."

Remus looked at him suspiciously, and Sirius' only explanation was that Remus was unsure when he had found the time.

It turned out, with James busy with Lily and Peter off studying or roaming the castle—as he said—Sirius had a _lot_ of spare time. He could see now how Snivellus had been able to create a curse himself—all it took was some boredom and a desperation for something specific.

"You'll be surprised what I can do when bored, Moony," Sirius added as Remus laughed. "Are you in?"

Shrugging, shaking his head as he smiled. "A chance to see my boyfriend naked? I'd be stupid to pass on the chance."

"Perfect," Sirius said, taking Remus' quill before writing down the name of the spell. "It feels a little odd at first when you cast it, but it eventually subsides."

Remus glanced down at what he had written, his brows raising as he thumbed a dot of ink. "You are one intelligent son of a bitch sometimes, Sirius."

"So I've been told."

* * *

Remus would be _lying_ if he said he had never had a sex dream about Sirius naked in the library. Not only was it the most intensely sexy thing Remus could think up, but it was also the most recurrent dream behind the one where Remus killed someone. The juxtaposition of the two hadn't been missed by Remus.

When the cast spell danced over him, he felt as though he had been drenched in ice all of sudden. His ears were ringing as his nose tingled, all sound and scent vanishing for a second as Remus sat in the moment sensory blindness. He wouldn't say it was perfect, but different—as the turning of pages returned to his ears, the bustle of students between bookcases, he relaxed his muscles against the chair.

"Remus?"

Blinking, Remus met Sirius' eyes before offering a smile. "I'm alright."

Grinning, Sirius nodded.

He ran his hands over his thighs, trying to vanish some do the sweat building on them. Remus was nervous, to say the least. For one, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to control a raging hard-on if Sirius even removed his tie, never mind the rest of his clothes. Secondly, there was something about Madam Pince talking to him as he sat there naked he didn't like, and it made him both nervous and thrilled all at once.

Remus had never really suspected he was into exhibitionism until just then, but he also didn't hate the discovery.

"What is the spell to summon a _flock_ of birds?"

He wanted to dispute that this was easy and that Sirius clearly wanted to undress, but answered anyway. " _Avis."_

Sirius nodded. "What would you like to be removed, Moony?"

Remus swallowed, his fingers gripping into his thighs as he took a deep breath. "Tie."

Sirius sliding his tie undone, and teasingly pulling it free from around his neck was the most beautiful and most frustrating sight he had ever seen.

"What is one of the _five principal exceptions to Gramp's law?"_

Arching a brow, Remus smirked. "It's Gamp. And creating food from nothing."

Sirius gave him a congratulatory head nod. "Two points, one for correcting me and the other for being right."

"You're making this easy."

He didn't miss Sirius' wink, although he suspected he wasn't supposed to.

"Am not. How dare you, Moony? I am taking this very—"

"Don't even try it. Jumper and shirt, please."

Remus knew he'd regret it the moment he asked. His brain would fry, eyes unable to not drift down to the hair on Sirius' abs—the dark trail leading to his trousers. Remus also knew he'd be unable to stop staring at his broad chest, the toned physique from Quidditch practise with James—even though Sirius wasn't even on the team.

* * *

Whatever purpose Sirius had begun with, it had quickly vanished when he placed his own trousers on the table. Even for him, he felt conscious of his boxer-covered body being in a library—and he usually didn't care at all.

Sirius didn't want to suspect it had anything to do with the place, the weird memories he got whenever he came in here. He wanted Grimmauld Place as far from his thoughts as he stared at a very clothed Remus.

He should have suspected that Remus wouldn't get anything wrong, and the only reason he cast the spell, to begin with, was because he knew Remus didn't believe in himself. He had increased the difficulty in the questions, asking things Sirius knew they hadn't _even_ studied, and yet was somehow in Remus' notes. Even for him, the only reason Sirius had known about some of the questions from when he had spent a summer reading all he could find to distract himself in the Black Family Library just to avoid his mother before he began at Hogwarts.

"Do you feel… _prepared_ now?" Sirius asked flirtatiously, tensing his muscles as he leaned on the table. "Or do you need further _persuasion?_ "

Remus chuckled. "I think you should put your clothes back on."

" _Spoilsport_."

"I'm worried about the longevity of your manufactured spell; it wouldn't be the first time you didn't think of _everything_ when being a cocky shit."

Sirius grinned as he grabbed his shirt and shoved his arms through it. "That was one time."

"One is enough, Sirius. Especially if Pince catches you."

Shoving his legs inside the trousers, Sirius arched his brow. "Not _Madam Pince?_ Merlin, Remus! A guy gets naked in your fantasy spot, and suddenly all etiquette goes out of the window."

"Fuck off," Remus laughed, throwing Sirius' tie at him.

Another thought ran through his mind, but even Sirius knew it was risky. As he stood to put on his tie, he tried to will it away, but the adrenaline and buzz from his spell working had fired up his nerves—had his blood pumping. Sirius balled it up instead, letting the end of it slip through his fingers to the floor

"Oh, no."

Sirius smirked, pulling at the hair band around his wrist as he tied his hair up from around his neck. "What?"

"You have that glint in your eye, the one that means nothing good is coming my way."

"Only good things _come_ to you, Moony," Sirius said smoothly.

Remus visibly blushed, his ears and neck suddenly reddening. "Oh, _Christ."_

Sirius leaned in real close, purposeful in his movements as his palms met the worn wood of the desk, allowing the curls he usually pushed behind his ears to fall. He held Remus' stare, boldly being desperate—not that Sirius cared much. The feel of Remus' arms beside his wrists, the scent of his wooden aftershave, twirling up to meet his nose as Sirius closed in, leaving a sparse amount of space between their lips.

"I think you should surrender revising," Sirius whispered lowly, almost darkly.

Remus visibly swallowed, a soft glint in his eyes. "My quill is down, Sirius."

The edges of Sirius' lips twitched, a smirk desperate to burst over his lips, but he restrained. "Won't be the only thing that'll be down in a minute, _Remus_?"

" _Fuck_ ," Remus muttered under his breath.

Sirius lightly brushed his lips against Remus', watching as his boyfriend tried to grasp for them again, only to find Sirius had allowed space to fill between them.

"Fuck, indeed." He slid the papers from Remus, leaning his elbow down on the table one by one. "Do you know how hard you make me, Remus?"

Remus' cheeks blushed lightly, pink dotted alongside the freckles as it bled over his pale skin. 

It gave him an array of thoughts he couldn't quite deal with. The thought of skin-on-skin, here, in the sacred four walls of Remus' favourite place. If he was honest, Sirius rarely ever thought straight when he was around Remus, his thoughts always taking a lustier turn, but here, the blush on his cheeks and the glint in his eye, Sirius was a lost man. He felt starved, hungrier than he had ever felt.

"How much I want to unbuckle your belt, and slide my hand down your trousers and _touch you,_ stroke your cock until it's begging to be in my mouth?"

Remus visibly swallowed, and Sirius pulled back, a smirk crossing over his lips.

"Dog got your tongue, Moony? Because if it hasn't, it can do."

* * *

Remus crashed Sirius' back against the wall in the darkest corner of the library.

It didn't matter how dark it was, or how no one ever came to _this_ corner with innocent intent; it broke the very rule Remus had in place. _They must remain a secret._ He knew the rule; exceptionally well, in fact. It was simple enough to understand but harder to follow, especially when Sirius looked like a god who had mistaken Earth as his home planet.

What also mattered was that Sirius wasn't a quiet man.

He wasn't quiet when it came to injustice, he wasn't quiet when it came to _needing_ to be quiet, and least of all, Sirius wasn't quiet when he was being fucked. Not ever. Not even a little bit.

Wrapping his arm around Remus' neck, Sirius pulled him closer as they kissed, nipping at his lip as teeth grazed skin. He wanted his shirt off; it also helped that Sirius wanted to yank the fabric free from Remus' skin like some rabid animal. It quickly became apparent that Sirius needed him as much as Remus wanted him. The two of them so clearly desperate to feel skin against the other, as though it would soothe all the doubt and all the worries, even if Remus knew it wouldn't.

 _Not_ even a little bit.

It was the thing with doubts; they couldn't be _fucked_ out of someone, even if they wanted them too. Sleeping with Sirius wouldn't make Remus believe he could pass all of his exams.

Sirius tangled his fingers in Remus' hair, tugging as though knowing Remus had begun to drift into his own mind. From the _purposeful_ roll of Sirius' hips against him, he became seemed pleased at the low-groan that emitted from between Remus' lips, as though he had been chasing it, desperate for it. Taking advantage, Remus bit down on Sirius' bottom lip, holding his eye contact until the man hungrily kissed him back.

Neither of them wanted to bow to the other; after all, it had been a while. Longer than Remus had planned or liked. He just found it difficult, complicated almost. He was also scared out of his mind—which didn't help.

It wasn't _always_ like this. So feral, and so desperate. But Remus was fuelled with thoughts and Sirius… Well, he _wasn't_ sure. But if their earlier conversations were anything to go by, Sirius was as frustrated with Remus as Remus was himself. Which didn't say a lot, Remus was extremely frustrated with himself most of the time, whether it be him letting his thoughts turn darker or thinking he could avoid a breakdown. 

Remus broke through his thoughts once more as the soft moan escaped from Sirius; he smashed through them, shattering any chance at connecting any of the thoughts that wished to appear. He released, and let go of all of them as he undid Sirius' belt. The sound, it was loud in the silence of the library, and it only made Remus groan even more against his lips. He decided, then and there, that he wouldn't be fucking Sirius, but rather thank him.

For the help with studying, for coming after him, for being with him—even if the latter he knew he didn't need to be thankful for.

Sirius' fingers gripped Remus' waist just as Remus let his fingers brushed down Sirius' stomach, feeling the softness of his skin against the rough of his own. His thumb slid under the band of his underwear, his fingers moving south inside, until fabric rested against the back of Remus' hand and hair brushed his fingers. He waited for a second, holding Sirius' stare before he wrapped his fingers around Sirius' bare, hardening cock. He watched as the darkening silver turned black, the concoction of desperation for more and relief that Remus had reached out to touch him.

"This what you want, Padfoot?" Remus whispered darkly, watching as Sirius' lashes fluttered as he moved his hand up and down. 

Sirius connected their lips together, almost panting against his mouth but Remus didn't mind. The kisses softer, slower, as though Sirius couldn't focus on whatever he was hoping to achieve. It made Remus feel powerful, in control. At that moment, staring into the abyss of lust and something else he couldn't categorise. Sirius' eyes were staring into him, burning into him as they scorched his insides with affection and relief. The two of them were both lost, swirling in nothing until they found one another. It was the very reason Remus chose to tease him, pumping him in his hand, teasing him and prolonging how _good_ it would feel.

He wanted to get on his knees, pray to Sirius and show his gratitude, but he knew Sirius wouldn't remain nearly as silent as he was now. He'd groan and moan unashamed, which Remus loved about him, but would rather have not had to deal with.

Sirius motioned to do the same, to take Remus' wanting cock in his hand, but Remus swatted him away, stopping from doing so before, even if took all of his control to not relinquish. Sirius _never_ bowed down from a fight, whether it be with Slytherin's or Professors, friend or foe. So it wasn't surprising when Sirius grazed a nail over Remus' trousers, where his hard cock was pressed against the buttons, as Remus shuddered against him. But, Remus _wanted_ to be the lead, he wanted to take charge, and receive nothing back. Even as his insides churned to feel himself inside Sirius, even if his bones and want screamed for a touch, Remus didn't bend, he didn't give in. 

Their foreheads together, heavy breathing and air were brushing their lips. It was more than Remus could dream up, and be more than happy; it was all a reality. Strands of Sirius' hair around his face, half-curled in the air from pants and peppers of sweat.

"I want to make _you_ feel good, Sirius," Remus whispered, tracing the tip of his tongue against his jaw.

Grinning, Sirius licked his lips, looking up at Remus with almost black eyes. "Then make _me_ , Remus."

The low voice, the fact anyone could have come round the corner and seen them, made it all the hotter. Remus couldn't even _comprehend_ how hot it was, how attracted he was to Sirius—how much he wanted him all the _damn_ time. It had never been like that, with anyone. It should scare him. It should rock him to the core, but it didn't, because it felt right. It all felt right.

"This good, Sirius?" Remus asked, sliding his finger over the tip of his leaking cock before taking him in his plan again. "Is this what you like?"

The words, they made Sirius' throat dry, he could tell. It was the only reason Sirius was _ever_ silent.

"Fuck, Sirius, you look so beautiful with my hand around your cock."

* * *

Sirius could give Remus a thousand compliments, think a million positive things, and thank him for a billion other things, but there was _nothing_ like a Remus-Lupin-Hand-Job.

The power got to Remus, it rose on him, making his eyes shimmer with gold flecks, and made the animal within him stand on his back legs and bang his chest. Even if wolves didn't do that, Sirius imagined that _Moony_ did. Remus pumped Sirius with such purpose; it was as though he knew exactly what to do to drive him insane—as though he could read his mind.

He couldn't, by the way, Sirius had been forced to practise _Occlumency_ since he was a boy—not that Remus would try such a trick.

As Remus did a small twist with his hand, Sirius tried to clear his throat, tried to shift the lump that formed as he stared into the dark green eyes staring into him—the lustful swirls of gold that _circled_ Remus' eyes.

He loved him. He _loved all of him._ Every inch. Each finger and each toe.

Sirius wanted to tell him that—wanted to explain why he had come. It wasn't for _this—_ although, the quick hand-job was appreciated—it was because he _had_ to know he was okay. Because he loved him, and Sirius knew he'd be lost without him if he wasn't.

Opening his mouth, set to say the words and possibly blue-ball himself, Sirius cleared his throat. Life, however, was playing its usual game. Just as his words began to form, Remus ran his thumb over his soaked tip, as he continuously pumped his hard cock, as he stared—with all the lust and intensity Remus was feeling, Sirius wasn't sure he could speak. If ever. There weren't any words—except three that circled his brain, the heartfelt speech he had planned falling to dust as the three words circled his mind with more purpose and loudness.

_I love him._

_I love Remus John Lupin._

It was a realisation that raised more questions than answered; a clarifying thought that only added a new level of confusion. It meant everything, and not much at all because Sirius hadn't known a real meaning of those words. He hadn't ever seen a genuine product of them, but maybe this could be it. He felt them or felt as though they were the closest to how he was feeling—his mind conjuring them like a spell he had known all along but had forgotten for a while.

Remus, however, didn't know Sirius was in some quandary. He had no idea as he continued to whisper horny words and drive Sirius so close to the edge of the cliff that sex would be in the air in seconds. Remus had no idea that the tighter he gripped him, the closer Sirius got, the looser the words became, edging their way to the top, travelling past his heart and up to his throat, until he came with a muffled groan and a mind-blanking orgasm that nearly sent him to his knees.

He didn't fall, because Remus was there. He pinned him to the wall as he tried to level his breathing; he held him up as he tried to control his body, and while Remus did that, Sirius thought he escaped it. He thought he had dodged the chance to humiliate himself as his hand loosened on Remus' shirt, not realising he'd been grasping it for as long as he had. Sirius thought he was in the clear as Remus released his softening cock until he pressed his soft lips to his temple.

It was like a key, unlocking _Padfoot's box_.

"I love you."

He braced, tensing more than he had done when Remus had been gripping his cock. Sirius tensed more than when a bludger hurtled at his face or when his mother raised her wand at him. He also didn't meet his eyes, not daring to see the fractured relationship hanging between them because Sirius had been foolish. He had overstepped the mark.

"You…—"

Sirius pulled up his trousers, re-positioned himself as he muttered a spell, wandlessly cleaning up the mess in both his underwear and Remus' hand. The heat in his cheeks reached a new height, almost burning his skin as he refused to meet Remus' eyes.

"Don't," he whispered fractured, embarrassment coating his flustered ears and sweat-laced forehead. "I… I know it's—"

Remus lifted Sirius' chin, two fingers wrapped around it as he stared with a look that hadn't been there before. It was so intense; he wasn't sure if he could maintain it; it was so fragile, and yet so beautiful, Sirius didn't believe he deserved it. It wasn't a look Sirius was _sure_ he had never seen before.

"Padfoot."

Rolling his lips, Sirius stared defiantly, not wanting to show his cards, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was. " _What_?"

"I love _you_."

Sirius braced—even if he knew he had said it first. Somehow, he was waiting for the _I'm just kidding_ or for himself to suddenly awaken, when Remus stepped closer, their bodies touching in every way they could. He hadn't had the chance to zip or belt himself back up. Shock having floored him as Remus began to smile.

"I mean it, Sirius. I d—"

" _Mr Black!_ What in Merlin's beard are you doing?"

He watched as Remus' mouth dropped open; Sirius fought a laugh that wanted to burst out of him, a furious Pince in front of him looking set to shoot an array of fire at him. It was worth it, all of it—he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

* * *

Remus had been surprised he hadn't been thrown out _with_ Sirius, especially with their notorious record of troublemaking. It seemed, however, Pince quite liked Remus—he suspected it was because he respected the books unlike some other students, and if he weren't there she'd be alone.

With his head a little clearer and his distraction neutralised, Remus rejoined his place at the desk, staring down at his notes, hoping they'd all make sense. _They didn't._ If anything, without the pressure of the game, all the answers seemed more challenging to find. Remus _knew_ , mainly because of Sirius, that he had the answers in him, and he wasn't as stupid as his brain led him to believe, but the pressure of _everything_ and the world outside vastly approaching, it was hard to think logically.

If anything, since his eyes had seen the devastation in the paper at what was happening outside the walls of the castle, Remus had begun to think more illogically since. He wasn't like the others; even as much as he wanted to pretend, in the 29.5 days when he wasn't a monster. Remus was a _werewolf,_ one that didn't hear logic when he had changed and one that had no respect for human life.

The _very_ least Remus could do was at least make his parents proud with his grades—even if that seemed to be slipping from grasp as well.

He was so lost in thought; he barely noticed a piece of parchment coming towards him until it hit him in the face.

_Stop overthinking, Moony._

Remus looked up, scowling and scanning the area as he tried to see where Sirius was lurking—or _Padfoot_ —but it seemed neither were around.

_Were you looking for me? Of course, you are._

Sometimes, Remus could hex him.

_I'm outside, don't worry you're little curls. I can help you from out here if you want? Can draw what I'd do to you if you get an answer right?_

_I'm becoming quite skilled at nude art._

Remus rolled his eyes, somehow that didn't surprise him.

_You can write back you know. Otherwise, it's just the last sane member of the House of Black talking to himself._

Licking his lips as he stared at the paper, waiting for the sickle to drop in Sirius' mind. It turned out not to take as long as Remus had thought, elegant curly handwriting filling the page before his eyes.

_Oh, actually I haven't provided you with something to write back on, give me a second._

Remus couldn't fight a smile.

He found he wasn't ever able to when he was around Sirius. There was something about his energy, his lack of doubt in him; it just filled him with immense happiness no one could replicate.

When Remus had met the three friends, he had believed they'd turn his back on him the moment they learnt his secret. When they didn't, he found he experienced something so many took for granted—friendship. With Sirius, it took a while, but when that friendship began to shift into something more, he felt every part of himself change.

The wolf within liked the brightest star; liked how it led them both home—both the man and the animal.

Sirius had told him once before how he had looked to the moon when he had been a child, searching for answers he never found, until he met Remus. Sometimes, Remus wondered how fate could be so humorous, and other times he was more sensible than to question it.

Another piece of parchment landed before him, unfolding from its crane shape to a flat piece of paper, and Remus wished he could charm paper as quickly as Sirius did. Or even Peter.

No one expected it, not from Peter, which Remus assumes was why his friend hadn't got much confidence in himself either. But when it came to charms, Peter was proven challenging to crack, always able to pick up the spell with ease.

_**If you put as much effort into your studies how often you put into Protean-charming objects, you'd be a master of everything.** _

_People keep telling me this. But, I am not the one spending hours of the day in a library, so less moaning and more quizzing._

Remus realised he had a point.

He actually had _no_ idea why he was still in here, knowing there would be little concentration happening now.

_**Hold that thought, Padfoot.** _

From the silence, Remus suspected he had.

* * *

On occasion, Sirius thought he understood Remus.

He felt he grasped his insecurities and doubts; Sirius felt as though he could sympathise and be considerate. And other times, Sirius couldn't feel farther from understanding him.

Sirius had been about to answer him, make some remark about _holding his silence_ when the library door opened, seeing Remus scouting around before his eyes landed on him. To someone, other than himself, it must have looked rather funny. A six-foot man sat on the floor, a book on his lap and a quill in his hand.

"You're on the floor."

Smirking, Sirius held out the quill in his hand. "This is yours, _Professor Oblivious_."

"And the book?"

"I know you don't want to know the answer, so I'm not sure why you'd ask," Sirius chuckled as Remus took the quill, leaving his hand to help pull Sirius up. "What you doing on the other side of the door there, Moony?"

Remus, who hated being called cute, did the _cutest_ shrug a man could do and still be seen as attractive. Sirius had never been someone who could see himself loving someone, not in the way someone deserved, but with Remus—and the cute shrugs and the blushing cheeks—he'd die trying.

"I love you," Remus said, as though those three words weren't a big deal.

Sirius bit back saying _I know, you've said that,_ but he knew, deep down, he was only going to say it as a deflection.

"I know… I know things aren't always easy for you. Being with me as one of them—"

"— _Moony—"_

Remus, however, pushed on. "—Not because of my moonly activities, but because… you _love_ me. You love someone and it… it scares you." Sirius felt his heart quicken, a twisting sensation in his stomach. "I know because I'm scared too."

"You… are?"

He watched him nod, feeling relief over that simple movement, and not being able to express why fully. Sirius suspected it was because it meant he wasn't alone, and often, that was how he felt; or because he didn't feel he should be scared, and yet he still was.

"Being with someone _requires_ you to be vulnerable, something… something we both struggle with," Remus continued, stepping closer towards him, gold flecks moving in his eyes. "It's why I was nervous around the others—afraid if it didn't work, I'd lose you. For good."

Sirius frowned. "That would _never_ have happened. Moony, you're legit stuck with me. Even if you don't want me; I'm _fucking_ homeless for one—and disowned for another. You're kinda all I've got."

Remus traced his foot against the floor, something he only did when he was nervous. "Yeah, but… _James_ , the Potters'. Peter?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, knowing neither himself or Remus bought it, he dipped his head. "They're not you though are they? They're not… my _other_ half."

He coyly looked up, seeing nothing but adorable in the green eyes fixed on him—the ones shimmering and shining, as though they had their light source. Sirius wasn't sure when he had become _that_ person, the one who said his feelings with confidence and not fear, but he liked it. It felt freeing, no weight on his shoulders as he slowly straightened his spine, letting his words flow over Remus as he took them in and believed them.

"You're the _only_ one I listen to. I literally entered a library for you—which is like a church for the devil, by the way. I make you a plate, an actual fucking plate, Remus. I put your breakfast—"

Remus pressed his lips roughly to Sirius', cutting the words off as he felt silent against him. The softness mixed with the purposefulness of the kiss sent a wave down his spine, a rush through his veins. Sirius grasped Remus' hips, neither caring who would see as their bodies pressed against one another.

It was the sheer opposite of earlier, all coy and secretive, and yet this felt better—felt more pleasing. Sirius didn't feel a pang of nerves, any doubt or hesitation in Remus; he just felt his desperation, his need to kiss him and _only him._ Something he had wanted for longer than he had known. When their lips slowly parted, grey mixed with green, creating a colour no rainbow could ever come close to, the two of them an inch apart as they slowly mirrored a grin.

"Someone broke their _no public_ rule."

"You complaining?" Remus jested.

Tilting his head side to side, Sirius ran a finger down Remus' jumper covered chest. "Not in the _slightest_ —I actually find rule-breakers my type."

Remus sniggered. "Is that why you're—"

"If you mention that bloody barrel, Remus, I swear."

Licking his lips, clearly burying whatever he was supposed to say, Remus gave a curt nod. "You're my other half too, by the way."

Sirius felt something swell in his chest, a warmth that travelled up his throat and made him want to smile like a lunatic. He didn't—he needed to be calm, after all.

"I left a library for you, after all."

"Look at us," Sirius said poking Remus' chest, "making sacrifices, we should be hailed as heroes."

Rolling his eyes, those beautiful green eyes, Remus snorted before stepping back, leaving some distance between them. "You're a twat sometimes, Padfoot."

Following, allowing Remus to lead him down the corridor, Sirius smirked to himself. "It's why you love me right?"

He was sure he heard Remus laugh before saying, _yeah, that's why._

* * *

The rest of the night had dragged.

Remus fought his thoughts as best as he could, trying not to psyche himself out. He had come to a decision, one he knew he meant with all he had, and it was the exact reason he knew time had slowed to nothing. His heart thumped in his blood, practically hearing it flow around his ears as he tried to laugh when the others did, and smile at the rest.

He had become a master at hiding himself. Remus has been practising since he had been first bitten, but Remus was more scared about this. Of reaching out, jumping over the cliff, and Sirius possibly leaving him dangling.

Not that he would. Sirius wasn't someone who would leave him behind, yet somehow, he still worried.

He half wished he could create some reason they all needed to go to bed early, so that he could do it, and to get it out of the way, in the best way possible. But even if Remus tried his best to act cool, he knew he couldn't pull of blase like the others. He wasn't Sirius, after all.

Eventually, James led the way, the common room becoming bushier as curfew hit. The four of them laughing as they climbed the staircase, jokes and snark flowing from them. Whatever happened outside of the walls when they left, Remus knew he'd have these memories. A brotherhood for life he had never thought he'd have—a family made through choice.

Remus was the last one to enter their room, he shut the door with a click, smiling to himself as Sirius perched on the end of his own bed. He didn't meet his eye, not wanting to see the disappoint he usually saw every other night—not when he had such a good plan.

"Um, Pads?" Remus said before he cleared his throat again, he felt the room watching him—the walls suddenly coming in ever so slightly as the air became heavy. "You want to, _um,_ sleep with me tonight?"

He lifted his eyes, finding the grey dancing over him. There was no smirk on his face, no confused glare either, but rather a smile that Remus had never seen. It was full, almost brighter than the sun.

Sirius stood up, brushing his trousers down as he licked his lips. Remus watched him like a hawk, desperate for an answer, feeling his nerves spiking as Sirius took a step towards him.

"Moony?" Sirius whispered, and he nodded—in both _I mean this_ and acknowledgement of his name.

Remus should have expected it. Remus should have seen it coming from a mile off, but he still jumped tensed when Sirius pressed his mouth against his. He even still braced when his hand slid over his hip, as the other brushed through his hair, deepening the kiss.

For a second, Remus didn't remember the others in the room, not until their lips parted and he blinked.

"Thank _fuck_ for that," James said.

Sirius turned his head towards their friend as Remus caught sight of a relieved Peter too.

Peter nodded at them—more for Remus' sake, he assumed. "You two are _shit_ at hiding it."

James rolled his eyes as he pulled out a galleon before handing it to Peter, and Remus wanted to laugh. All the worry, all the anxiety, suddenly wanting to escape from him in the form of laughter.

"I lost a bet to Wormtail. _Wormtail."_ James sunk down on his bed, doing his best fake annoyed head shake. "You should have told us sooner."

Remus gripped Sirius' hand firmly, but softly, the two of them sharing a knowing smile between them before they turned their attention back to their friends.

"We had somethings to figure out," Sirius said, turning to look at Remus briefly.

 _Thank you,_ he wanted to say, but instead, Remus brushed his lips against Sirius' saying it with a kiss instead.

**Author's Note:**

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